Chapter 63 – Xavier
Still buttoning upmy shirt and trying to sort the chaos in my brain, I remembered why I came here—to find out about Mikaela’s pregnancy. I looked at her. Her cheeks flushed from my aggressive fucking, her mouth swollen from my kisses, and the slight smile playing around her lips as she dressed, my heartbeat stuttered.
I dragged a hand through my hair. This woman was my life, my heart and soul combined. One couldn’t live without the other. I didn’t care if she was pregnant with Rhett’s baby. She belonged to me.
I had to take her home.
About to voice my thoughts, the words stalled in my throat when a knock sounded on the door and Rhett entered a moment later. “Hi.” His gaze shifted between Mikaela and me. If he picked up that I’d just fucked her, he didn’t show it.
Before he could greet me, an excited Mikaela rushed over to him. “When did you get in?” she asked.
I wasn’t sure if that was happiness at seeing a friend or the unconcealed pout of a lover rolling over her expression. Guilt eased its way down my spine, taunting me with its slow journey.
“You promised to visit last week.” She slapped his arm playfully.
“I’m sorry, Mika.” The familiarity between them crashed against my chest. “Tough case.” He walked her back to my side. “Uncle?” He extended a hand, his expression mischievous, probably wondering why I was here or aware of my need for this woman I couldn’t get out of my head. “Nice to see you here. How long are you staying?”
I accepted his handshake, sliding my hands into my trouser pockets after—the urge to pull Mikaela into my arms and declare my ownership threatened my usual sanity. “Was planning on leaving tonight,” I said, striving to control that sudden tightness in my chest. Despite Saint’s words yesterday, I knew it was wrong to come between these two.
Mikaela frowned. “You’re not staying?”
“Rhett’s here now, Ella. You don’t need me.” Fuck, I sounded like a goddamn jealous arse. I walked away before either of them could respond.
Outside, I stood in the garden, breathing hard. I don’t know how long I stood staring into nothing when I heard someone come up behind me. I couldn’t turn. Wearing my heart on my sleeve was something I excelled at for my family, bearing my love for Mikaela was a feat I struggled to hide.
“Beautiful place isn’t it,” Rhett stepped beside me.
“It is.” My control was back in place. I looked at him. “How is she?”
He offered me a small smile. “She’s doing well. The shelter keeps her distracted.” His eyes captured mine, a silent message I couldn’t understand, or maybe I refused to.
My gaze drifted away, settling on a single leaf rolling on the ground, trying to assert its defiance against the light breeze. Somehow it reminded me of Mikaela, fighting all odds to survive, and I needed her to live, even if it came at the risk of losing her. Again.
It was time to leave.
I turned to face my nephew. “Be careful with her, boy. She was broken in ways I don’t think even a man with the strongest heart can survive. And after each hurt, she healed herself on her strength alone. Still, she wears her traumas with pride, catching her tears before they have a chance to fall. She’s not just a survivor but one of the many women who doesn’t need a man. Rather a woman that a man can’t live without. Take care of her.” My steps weary, I walked away.
“If you can’t live without her, then why walk away?” his soft words paused my feet.
Slowly, I turned, a frown creasing my brow. “Because...” I trailed off, unsure how to explain what my heart was telling me to say. Then his words registered, and my surprise must’ve shown.
“Uncle.” He laughed with a sigh. “Mikaela has only ever had eyes for one man. A man no other Sinclair can emulate, no matter how hard we try. A man I will always respect like a father.” He neared me, slipping his hands into his jeans pockets. “Mika’s a friend, a good one who listens to me ramble about one of the women who works under me. A woman...” he paused, and I gathered he was trying to find the right words. “Never mind.” He smiled. “I’m trying to say that Mikaela loves you, not me.”
My frown dug deeper. “What about the baby?”
His confusion matched mine before he glanced between me and the door, grinning. “One afternoon, Mikaela asked me about the type of father you were. Did I find it strange? No. Because no matter what we discussed or what she wanted to learn, she’d always find a way to steer the conversation back to you. I guess congratulations are in order, Uncle.” He reached for my hand.
